


*Kissy Face Emoji*

by ScripStrel



Series: Puppy Love [3]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Kissing, MST3K References, Movie Reference, Post-Canon, Post-Squip, Snow, Surprise Kissing, Sweet, THIS IS ACTUALLY JUST FLUFF, They're subtle this time though, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, fluffy fluffy fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-24 19:21:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17710091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScripStrel/pseuds/ScripStrel
Summary: Jeremy's decided that Brooke Lohst might just be the death of himHer first near-fatal act was when she put that damn emoji in her contact name.





	*Kissy Face Emoji*

Jeremy loved Brooke. He couldn't help it. Every day since they got back together had his heart beating in his throat and blood rushing to his face. Something about her made him lightheaded, and he didn't think it was just the constant perfume. 

They'd agreed to start from scratch, and they did. She came up to him in class, flirted with him— _ flirted _ with  _ him!— _ and gave him her number. Just like she would with any other boy she was interested in, probably. Just like she'd been trained by her years of popularity, for sure. He wasn't special. He wasn't her crappy ex who was getting a pity date. He was just the semi-loser kid who had caught her eye, which honestly wouldn't be the first time, if you considered the middle school boyfriends Chloe had tried to erase from public record. It was perfect. 

Brooke was great. Sentimental and sappy sometimes, sure, but it was starting to grow on him. Now, that wasn't to say he was totally used to her yet. For one, she was one of those people who put emojis in contact names. Weird, cute, and cheesy and normally Jeremy would roll his eyes. Maybe fake retch into his sleeve, except. She put a kissy face emoji next to her name. In Jeremy's phone. A pretty girl gave him her number. With a kissy face emoji.

Of course, he liked her for all the normal reasons. She was gorgeous. Like, actually, drop-dead, could-definitely-make-it-as-a-model (or a stripper, if that failed, but Jeremy's new resolution was to keep his mind firmly out of the gutter, no matter how much he'd really enjoy seeing Brooke strip) gorgeous. And she was funny! She had the sharpest wit of anyone Jeremy knew, which was saying something, because it meant she was competing with Michael, who was renowned for his one-liners almost as much as he was his tendency to smell like he'd just vaped behind a gas station. (He was adamant that it was not  _ vape. _ He had class enough to favor smelling like an herbal skunk, rather than a cloud of watermelon lies, thank you very much.) Brooke would leave Jeremy in stitches, thanks to her under-the-breath sarcasm. And she laughed at  _ his _ jokes! His shitty, would-make-any-sane-person-facepalm half-jokes that totally deserved crickets instead of a laugh track. She was sweet and knew just what to say to make him feel better after an ass day, and even when it was better not to say anything, so she'd just lace their fingers together and squeeze his hand and warmth would flow through him. 

And that wasn't even touching on the kisses. 

Brooke was super physically affectionate. Which was weird, at first. Jeremy had been enough of a loner for long enough to be kinda antsy about a pretty (drop-dead gorgeous) girl—one whom he’d completely fucked over in the past—clinging to his arm. Casual shoves with Michael were one thing. As natural as throwing a pillow at him, or fighting over controllers to try and make each other lose. You'd never question giving your brother a hug, just like you'd never question punching him in the face. 

Brooke, though, Brooke was an angel. Touching her was so soft, so gentle that Jeremy almost worried she'd evaporate. She was ephemeral. 

And when she kissed him, he felt like he was flying away with her. 

They were mostly little kisses. A peck on the cheek, a quick press against nearby skin. Saccharine and domestic. Michael was having a field day teasing Jeremy about it. 

"You guys are gonna give me cavities," he said. And they probably would. Jeremy could feel her sealing a place in his chest and yeah, it freaked him out. It freaked him the fuck out. Sure, he'd apologized for his massive fuck up and Brooke said she forgave him, but even with the Squip gone and everything going fine, he knew he was not able to live up to her in so many ways. Hell, he'd probably break her heart on accident again, but she was carving out a space next to his sternum, sort of nestled into his lungs and stealing his breath. She sat there like cotton candy, floaty, sugary, and brightly colored—the sort of thing he'd be an idiot not to indulge in, no matter how sticky or messy he knew it could become so easily. 

So, he was indulging. He could go on movie dates with his girlfriend, right?

_ Holmes and Watson _ fucking sucked, and they'd spent most of the movie throwing popcorn at each other, but it was still fun. Sweet. Just what Jeremy wanted.

What he hadn't wanted was for his dad to have to be his chauffeur. Jeremy didn't have a car, and he really hated the parking part of driving anyway, and he was  _ also _ starting to feel bad about making his girlfriend drive him to their dates (and besides, her car was in the shop after the last time an asshole tried to park on top of her). So Dad Taxi it was. 

Really, it wasn't all bad. He got to stand with Brooke outside the theatre while they waited for their rides. Light snowflakes dusted down, sprinkling against Brooke's eyelashes and cold-blushed cheeks. She was pressing her ungloved hands against Jeremy's neck ("To keep them warm!") and he was jerking away and laughing with her while eight-year-old boys gagged at them, teenage girls shared knowing looks, and the box office people were probably starting to get really annoyed with how much noise they were making. 

"I'm really glad we got to do this tonight," she said, winding her stupid icicle fingers in the collar of his jacket. 

Doing everything he could not to flinch away from the icy half-touch, Jeremy grinned back at her. "Even though that movie was shit?"

She shrugged and flashed him a crooked smile. "I don't care what they try next. Benedict Cumberbatch is the best Sherlock. Everyone else is setting themselves up for failure."

Jeremy laughed. "I'm just glad you agreed to come with me to see a movie at all. And one that only got ten percent on Rotten Tomatoes? You're a saint." 

Brooke finally pulled her fingers away from his collar, instead intertwining them with Jeremy's own gloved ones and swinging their clasped hands between them. "I like being around you,” she said, “even if I think your movie taste is shit."

"Hey!" Jeremy wasn't sure which part of her statement made him blush, but heat bloomed in his cheeks.

Brooke glared playfully at him. "You made me sit through a movie that you yourself called 'the worst cinematic clusterfuck in the world.'"

Jeremy bit back a smile, instead shoving his free hand—the one not running its thumb across Booke's soft skin—into his coat pocket and forcing a melodramatic pout. "Michael still says  _ The Beast of Yucca Flats _ is worse, but I mean,  _ Manos _ is  _ marketable _ as the worst movie ever."

"And I don't need to see it again, thank you very much," Brooke said with a giggle. Her breath misted out in front of her. She pressed her lips together as a slight shiver creeped over her shoulders. "God, it got cold."

Jeremy shrugged He was enthralled enough with the way her nose was glowing pink and diamond snowflakes dusted her golden hair that he didn't care about the cold ache seeping through his coat. "Well, yeah," he said. "It's—you know—it’s the dead of winter."

Brooke stuck her tongue out at him. “You’re supposed to warm me up, dummy.”

And suddenly, Jeremy was very,  _ very  _ warm. He—yikes. He loved her, but he was still  _ so _ not used to a pretty girl (a  _ really _ pretty girl) just. Just  _ saying _ stuff like that, all while blinking up at him, Sweet and innocent and doe-eyed, but with that little spark of something mischievous. Like a puppy that had totally trashed something in the house and was just waiting for you to find it. She was waiting to watch him squirm, and—fuck it all—it was working.

Brooke wound her arms around his waist and Jeremy made a noise like someone trodding on a mouse. How attractive. 

The telltale silhouette of Jeremy's dad's horrible bright blue car (courtesy of his midlife crisis, he claimed) saved him from his minor romantic crisis. 

"Oh!" Jeremy squeaked, pulling away from Brooke's teasing embrace. "Uh, sorry! Ride's here. Gotta go!" He gestured vaguely towards the wash of headlights at the curb. "I'll, uh—I'll see you at school, I guess?"

Despite his flustered floundering, Brooke smiled up at him. "You guess?" She laughed as heat bloomed in Jeremy's cheeks again and he spluttered. "Duh. I'll see you on Monday. Text me and shit."

"Right! Yeah, yup. Cool beans." Jeremy did finger guns—cursing himself internally for being a massive fucking dork—before he tried again to actually get in the car and leave so he could have his self-deprecating panic in peace. 

_ Tried _ would of course be the key word. Brooke yanked him back by the hand. She grabbed at his collar with trembling, frost-kissed fingers, before pulling him down to meet her lips. Jeremy, more surprised than anything, made another mouse-steppy sound. Her lips were cold, but they seared against his as she pressed up into him.  _ Fuck, _ there was a reason he loved her. Loved kissing her. Of course, sneak-attack kisses were just  _ mean. _ He didn't know what to do with his hands, his throat already burned from lack of air, and never mind the very obvious public element of this PDA, his  _ dad _ was watching. Brooke totally wore the pants in this relationship.

Not fucking fair. 

She finally released him, and Jeremy took a few shaky gasps of ice-cold air. He could almost feel the heat of his face turning snowflakes to steam around them. "What was that for?" he finally managed. 

Brooke grinned, pressing another short peck to his lips. "Goodbye kiss," she said simply. 

Jeremy choked on his words for a moment. "D-do you? I don't know. Do you have a ride? I don't wanna leave you alone in the cold."

Her smile turned even more fiery. "My mom's been here for like ten minutes," she said, and before he could possibly piece together a coherent answer to that, she waltzed away, waving and bouncing and glowing like a candle in the snow-covered night. 

Jeremy blinked. Okay. Cool. 

_ Cool. _

After an awkward exchange as he slid into shotgun ("You two seem close." "Yeah." "Be careful. Don't be getting anyone pregnant, now." " _ Dad!" _ ), Jeremy scrolled through his phone, face going warm again as a text came through. 

**Brooke <3: ** I had a lot of fun tonight!

Followed by her signature kissy face emoji. 

Damn. Typing out a response (a simple heart emoji, because he had not gotten the hang of teasey flirting yet, apparently), Jeremy could feel tingly heat in his cheeks again. He was probably done for. This pretty, witty, sweet, goddess of a girl would string him along to his demise. 

You know, he could get used to that.

**Author's Note:**

> Emojipedia (which I only went to because I strive for accuracy) says it's actually called the "face blowing a kiss" emoji, but that doesn't roll off the tongue well.  
> Based on a true event that sadly didn't happen to me, but I thought was perfect fluff-fodder when I heard about it.  
> We need more Puppy Love love.  
> I adore feedback, so please feel free to tell me what you thought!


End file.
